


Moonblind

by happywitch416



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blindness, Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), Cemetery, Complete, Dancing, F/M, Music, Mutual Pining, Storytelling, great big beauty and the beast reference, long talks under the moon, rose gardens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happywitch416/pseuds/happywitch416
Summary: Lady Amelia Moonblind was all too happy to take her tormentors' nickname and make it her own, and landing a title with it in the court of the Duchess of Toussiant. While she does not find peace within the palace walls, she does find it on long moonlit walks about Mère-Lachaiselongue Cemetery after an evening spent committing tavern tales and bawdy songs to memory for Anarietta's enjoyment. With danger lurking in Toussiant, is her hallowed haunt no longer a safe place to wander? Or perhaps will she visit more than the grave of her mother there?
Relationships: Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 24





	1. The full-orbed moon with unchanged ray mounts up the eastern sky,

Regis noticed the woman his first night at Mère-Lachaiselongue Cemetery. The moon had fully risen, her pale skin and light-colored dress glowing beneath it. He watched silently as she carefully picked her way through the gravestones. Occasionally, her hand would reach out to gently pat one while she smiled fondly. When she came to the break in the trees that flowed down to the lake she took a seat on one of the wider ones. She simply sat and listened to the night, her voice lilting softly on the wind at times. She stayed until the moon was at its zenith before she left, making her way carefully and without fear.

She came almost every night, only when it rained was she nowhere to be seen. He kept his distance, someone seeking peace in a cemetery in the night was someone who wanted to be left in peace. Regardless, Regis was drawn to her like a moth to flame. 

The woman's head cocked his direction. "I am not a terrible wraith seeking her vengeance, stranger." She turned towards him with a smile. Her eyes were white, like the moonlight that shone down but without the shadows of the moon itself. "The only threat I pose is accidentally standing on your feet." 

"You are a mysterious woman then, to wander in the dark and not be a threat." She laughed as he joined her, standing just out of her line of sight. 

"Perhaps I am the Lady of the Lake, come to test your chivalry." She said with a mischievous grin. "Alas, I am only Amelia." 

"Amelia, a lovely name. I am Regis." 

Amelia cocked her head again, staring at him intently. "My eyes may not see, and it is not often someone can sneak up on me. Are you perhaps Regis the assassin? A wraith? Not a bandit." She made a face. "You can smell them long before you hear them." 

He chuckled. "Just quiet."

"Hmm." She patted the stone next to her. "Well, Regis the Quiet." She broke into that mischievous grin again. "Have a seat. It's not often I have company during my ramblings." 

He settled beside her. "The dead don't offer much conversation." 

She shook her head. "Which is why I visit them." She scowled. "The palace is full of endless noise and smells, everything moving. The dead stay still and silent."

"And smell?"

She shrugged. "Most of the time it's not terrible. Besides." A small smile appeared. "Anything smells better then the perfume some ladies douse themselves in. If they went too close to a candle they'd catch fire. And out here." She gestured about them. "They'd rather set themselves on fire then come here, much less with Lady Moonblind."

"I have not heard that surname before."

She made a derisive noise. "Nor shall you again since I am the one and only. And nothing takes the sting out of their venom quite like embracing their attempt at being awful." She sighed wistfully. "Just once I would like to see them squirm when I am announced, Lady Amelia Moonblind." She shrugged. "They are not terribly creative with insults. The Sightless. The Unseeing. Clouded Oracle. So many possibilities and that was their best." She gave a disappointed shake of her head.

"Are you truly blind?"

She grinned. "Mostly, I wasn't always. I see." She thought a moment, feet swinging. "Greys, like fog. There are vague shapes but nothing more. No features. People I see their auras mostly. Which is jarring at times." She looked at him again. "Yours is nice, greys and blacks with little swirls of red."

"Most do not find those colors comforting."

"Most do not see the daylight as a blazing fire of death and suffering.” She deadpanned. “They can keep their opinions." He laughed with her.

"How do you come this far alone? Practice?"

She nodded. "Mostly. My mother died when I was young." She patted the stone they sat on. "The same sickness that took my sight. My governess brought me here every day. My father." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Exists in his office and leaves me to myself. I prefer it that way."

"Now." She gave a single nod of her head. "You do not fear the night then."

"Men are the only true monsters in this world and there is nothing they fear more than death and the dead." She told him tartly before shaking her head. “Enough about me. Why are you wandering a cemetery in the dead of night, Regis? Surely you are not also escaping the palace, or avoiding it altogether.”

“I am here to meet a friend.”

“Ah.” She looked down at her hands. “Shall I leave then? Your voice makes it sound like this meeting is dire.”

“That I do not know. He has yet to appear.”

She nodded. “If he is in the city I could ask him to meet you? No one notices me asking strange questions of strange people, it is part of my position.”

“Which is?”

“Official busybody of the Duchess’s court.” Her grin turned mischievous at the change of his posture, nose crinkling. “That is what those dreadful little parrots are for. I am simply a gatherer of songs that her Ladyship may enjoy. Unofficially, of course, no proper noble would be found amongst the no ones learning bawdy tavern songs and equally risque tales. Much less returning to tell them to her Ladyship.”

“Yet you do not like the noise of the palace.”

She gave him a look, brows arching with the quirk of her mouth. “People are honest about their lies in a tavern, the same cannot be said for courtiers. If their mouth moves, they are lying.”

“I will take that into consideration while hearing your words, Lady Amelia.”

Something akin to a snort left her. “Only Amelia. You will just have to see if anything I say is true then, won’t you?” 

The silence settled comfortably around them for a time, Amelia quietly humming one of Dandelion’s ballads. “Dandelion would be honored to know his songs are still sung in the Duchy.”

“Well, only when you are not around Anarietta.” She made a face. “To say she is still angry at that man would be an understatement of the highest order. But.” She smiled. “If you know the Bard Dandelion and are waiting in Mère-Lachaiselongue to meet someone, you must be waiting for Geralt of Rivia.”

“Geralt is in Toussaint?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. Anarietta has summoned him though, she sent out two knights to retrieve him and left a notice at every crossroads on the Continent.” She continued softly. “She seeks his aid for the murders, much to de La Tour’s chagrin.” She cocked her head, studying him. “He is not the friend you seek, is he?”

“No, but he is a friend nonetheless.”

Amelia nodded before looking skyward. “I hope your friend finds you, Regis. Alas, I must call our evening to a close, if I am not back soon my bedeviled knight of a brother will come banging his sword insufferably.” She stood and curtseyed with a soft smile. “It was a pleasure to have met you, Regis. Perhaps, our rambles will allow us to converse again.”

He took her hand and bowed low over it. “It would be my pleasure, Lady Amelia.”

She shook her head with a chuckle. “Only Amelia.”


	2. Not doomed to these short nights for aye, but shining steadily.

Amelia and Regis met almost nightly in Mère-Lachaiselongue. She enjoyed listening to his tales of far off places and alchemy, he liked her folklore and the songs that she tried to teach him. The results of which always left them chuckling. 

Regis was waiting for Geralt to return with the spotted wight saliva for Resonance and found himself wanting her far from the cemetery, somewhere safe. After Geralt returned, it would be time to tell him about the final ingredient, one he knew Geralt would protest and a chance he was not willing to take with Amelia being there.

"You should head back early." She gave him a quizzical look. "And stay away for a time."

Her quizzical look turned dark with a hint of steel as she straightened her shoulders. "If you want me to stop visiting you can just say so, Regis. I am not a delicate flower."

She stood, body tense as she stepped away from him. He reached out and grabbed her hand. "That's not what I meant."

She nodded once. "Then please speak plainly."

“Geralt and I will be performing a spell, and some of the requirements…” He was quiet for a moment, searching for the right words. "I do not want you near here for your safety as I do not know how it will turn out."

"Ah." Her cheeks flushed delicately as she worried her fingers against each other.

"It's not that I don't want to see you, Amelia." He said softly.

"I." She shook her head with a soft smile. "I apologize, Regis." She looked at him then. "That was unfair of me when you have been nothing but kind." She squeezed his hand and he let go. "I will, perhaps." She added mischievously. "Take your request into consideration."

"Perhaps?" A smile tugged at his lips.

“Perhaps.” She said solemnly before breaking into a grin. “I will stay away for a time but only because my favorite garden is finally blooming."

"What is this garden like?"

"Beautiful." She sighed wistfully. "It's all roses, some as big as my head and others no bigger than a crown, in every color you can imagine and it smells like paradise. There are a few statues and many benches, the one fountain is lovely to listen to. On the nights Anarietta hosts garden parties you can hear the music, all while avoiding standing on anyone’s toes or slipping on spilled wine. It's the only peaceful spot near the palace." Her smile took a twinge of sadness as she leaned against the gravestone. "And it was my mother's favorite as well."

“A special garden no matter how beautiful then.”

“Yes.” She laughed a little. “Anarietta banned anyone from entering it without my family’s permission after some addle-brained knight set a flower bed on fire trying to woo his lady. It was not my brother but it is something he would do.” She added playfully before gazing skyward. “I almost don’t remember the colors. Sometimes they shine through.”

“But it's not the same.” She shook her head. Regis stood giving the raven a nod. “Geralt won’t return for several hours at the soonest.” He took her hand and settled it against his elbow. “I can passably describe the colors to you, I believe.”


	3. She does not wane, but my fortune, which her rays do not bless,

"Tesham Mutna." She tried the words with her tongue, harsh against her soft lips. Her head cocked to the side, a trait he had learned meant she felt something. "This place holds sorrows for you."

“Yes.” He had told himself he would stay away until it was done, but Geralt had not been ready and Regis’s thoughts had always turned to her.

She nodded, brow furrowing. “We have… dark tales about those ruins. No more than whispers, but it's enough to scare away all but the most foolhardy.” Her head tilted again as she studied him. “You do not strike me as foolhardy, Regis.”

“It's to help my friend. The spell Geralt and I are doing, we need to get something there.”

“Regis, I-.” She looked away and took a deep breath before she continued quietly. “I know you are not human.” He stilled beside her. “And I know that Tesham Mutna was once a fortress for vampires, namely Khagmar. Stories no matter how quietly whispered remain as long as there are mouths to tell them,” She swallowed hard, her voice dropping even lower. “That is why you must go there isn’t it?”

"Yes." He sighed, gazing up at the crescent that hung from the sky. "It will be an unpleasant journey."

Amelia reached out to gently lay her hand on his. "But it is one you must make."

He nodded, her lips drawing up at the corners slightly when he caught himself and spoke. "Yes, it's necessary. To protect my friend and to help him."

"Your friend is lucky to have you, Regis." She squeezed his hand gently and didn’t let go, allowing him all the silence he needed.

“Tesham Mutna is a testament to the crimes of my people, to my own.” He shook his head. “I did not believe you had noticed anything different.”

“Well, a lady has her secrets.” She gave him a warm smile. “But I knew the moment I felt you, saw your aura. Humans only have one color, and you have three.” Her frown returned a moment. “I didn’t figure out the rest until you mentioned that place.”

“A quick study then.”

“I have to be.” Amelia smiled brightly. ”I will admit I have rather rude questions.”

“Ask away.”

“Can you turn into bats? Why do people claim vampires can’t stand garlic? Do you really have to drink blood to survive?” 

Regis let out a short laugh. “I can turn into a bat. Garlic is a superstition only, as are stakes and silver.” He quieted a moment. “No, blood is not necessary to survive. Some of us have sworn off it entirely. Like humans and alcohol.”

She made a face. “That seems an inconvenient way to get a hangover.” She smiled at the noise he made. Her grin turned mischievous. “I take you are one that does not? Or am I not your type?”

If it had been anything but gentle teasing in her tone, and the smile on her face, he would have fled. Instead, his fingers tightened around hers, not realizing he had held on to it the whole time. “I do not partake in it anymore.”

“Mm.” She looked away then. “I hit another sore spot, didn’t I?’ She gave his hand another squeeze and stood straightening her skirts. "It seems only fair I tell you the tale of this garden to make up for it." She smiled and held out her hand, beckoning him. "It is lighter in comparison at least, but it is a story I have loved since I was a child." Regis linked his arm with hers, settling her fingers on his elbow as he let her guide them. "Humans destroy more than they create."

Regis chuckled. "I thought you said this was light."

Her eyes narrowed playfully, nose scrunching. "But they can't destroy everything. This garden is older than the duchy according to its tale." She had led them to the rose maze at the center of the garden, a winding track through the hundreds of roses, some the size of thimbles, and others so large you needed two hands to hold its blossoms. "The palace and the garden belonged to an elven prince. He ruled his kingdom with an iron fist, his people cowering when he strode past. One day, an old woman stopped him, begging for a scrap of bread, a coin, anything to help her survive the night." She grimaced. "He refused and the Lady of the Lake rose before him, cursing him into the form of a hideous beast."

"Until someone could love him in spite of his beastly behavior?" 

She laughed, the sound bringing a smile to his face. "Not quite. He was cursed until he could learn to care for another until he learned kindness and compassion." She led them down the twists and turns without faltering, the dizzying colors and scents dancing about them. "His people prospered while he was contained in the palace and this garden. It was he who planted the first roses in his loneliness. Watered them with his tears, with his blood when he grasped them gasping at the thorns. But he never yelled at them or expected anything from them but beauty. And that was the extent of his kindness. Anything dead or wilting was thrown away." 

She was silent a moment, her brows creased in thought. "There are two versions that diverge at this point in the tale. One goes on to tell of a princess who finds him tangled in the thorns, howling in pain, and being so grateful for rescue that he prostrates himself at her feet swearing to be her champion. Protecting her from an evil queen, he dies in her arms from a poison blade meant for her, becoming a prince again with his last breath as a beast and living happily ever after as a man reborn."

Chuckling at her sour expression, he patted her hand. "I take that is not your favorite version."

"No.” She smiled then, her steps slowing as they neared an area they had not explored before. "Magic or not, I do not believe an elf would turn into a man, and would not be enthused with the prospect if he did. Regardless, he does nothing to become better other than be at the right place at the right time. It's fine for children." She added thoughtfully. "When one is young enough to believe the land of wine and fairytales will always grant happy endings."

"Do you not, Amelia?" 

"No." Her smile grew a little sad. "When I was young, I wished a witch or fairy godmother would appear and with a wave of their hand, they would return my sight. I didn't even want normal eyes, it didn't matter the quest or payment. I just wanted to see the world like everyone else again." She laughed softly, but it did nothing to the undercurrent of sadness in her voice. "To dance at a ball without a partner who asked out of pity. To see a lover smile at the happiness I had caused. To, perhaps, one day see a little face like mine holding up their arms to be held, to know more than the sound of their voice, soft hair against my cheek." She took a long breath. "No. Regis, I haven't believed in those kinds of tales for a very long time." She hummed a moment and smiled with a shake of her head. "I was telling a story, not waning gloomy about my own."

"Stories can always be picked back up." He was grateful she couldn't see his face, the sadness he felt in his heart, the tightness in his chest.

"True. Where was I?"

"The second tale." 

She thought a moment then clicked her tongue. "The rose garden grew and prospered under his hands. He tended their leaves, trimmed them in the falls, fertilizing in the springs. Any that did not grow to his liking he ripped out, tossing them over the garden wall to wither and rot. He expected their beauty and would accept no less. One summer morning, a young woman stumbled into his garden, weary and frightened. She begged him to hide her from her pursuers, offering her meager coins and then herself in exchange. The beast led her into the center of the garden, telling her she would be safe hidden in the maze. He thought well of his luck that such an easy cure had come into his hands. One good deed and he'd be free. He strode beyond its hedge to meet them. They stood no chance and he returned to her victorious." She stopped in front of a large statue. "He sought to claim his prize, surely a kiss would change him back into a dashing prince. She owed him after all.”

The statue before them was golden. The great beast, with its shaggy mane and spiraling horns, falling back into the roses, their thorns sharp and tangling. The woman was smiling, the roses twining about her limbs like a lover’s caress. The way her arm extended spoke of softness, not violence, even as her cold eyes watched his death.

"He asked her why, raged that the roses were his to command, that he was owed his freedom. He had rescued her after all, it was only fair. He ordered and demanded she obey him, settling to hurling insults while the woman watched him quietly." She silent for a moment. "The Lady of the Lake told him he had not learned a thing, not in all his centuries trapped here. The gift, the second chance he had been given, was his no longer."

Regis stared at her and she smiled self consciously. "Usually these tales have a moral of the story, this one I do not think I understand."

"Neither beauty nor ugliness makes one more likely to be kind or compassionate. Motives matter to the actions, and the motives will always show themselves truly in the end." She gave him a brilliant smile, leading him away from the statue. "Although most would say, appearances are deceiving and one should learn from your mistakes the first time you make them. A mysterious woman is nothing to be trusted, be she a crone or a beauty, but you should treat them with equal respect.” 

He pulled at his collar. "Perhaps." He muttered. "You are warning me that you are going to murder me in this lovely garden then."

A surprised laugh left her, bowing her forward as her hand reached up to stifle it. "Really, Regis?" She shook her head, patting his hand. "How would I murder someone? With my disarming wit?"

"Words are mightier than the sword." Music had begun to lilt gently along the breeze that stirred the petals around them.

She snorted at that, face flushing at the noise she made. "By Lebioda, perhaps with my lady like charms then as well."

"Well." He stepped away from her, holding her fingers gently in his own. "You are charming, my lady." She shook her head with a fond smile. "It is not a ball but would you like a dance in this lovely garden?"

Amelia froze a moment before she spoke, her voice soft almost pleading. “I don’t know how.”

“I can show you.” Regis pulled her closer, placing her hand on his shoulder before settling his on her waist, fingers twining with hers as he raised their arms. She held herself stiffly, it was the most uncomposed he had ever seen her, including when she had fallen into the stream. “Relax, Amelia. You know music.” She nodded and slowly eased into the steps. 

A small smile appeared on her face as the song continued her usual grace returning as her feet memorized the steps. Her head cocked to the side when the music changed and she laughed. "I know this song."

"Does it have lyrics as well?" He twirled her gently, the ruffling of her skirt filling her silence.

"It does." She said quietly. She hummed a moment finding the place in the song.

"Ever just the same

Ever a surprise

Ever as before

Ever just as sure

As the sun will rise

Tale as old as time

Tune as old as song"

She trailed off, her cheeks flushing."It's a love song."

"Perfect for this garden then."

"Perhaps."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes I did do that. I am not even going to apologize as it is my favorite fairy tale, down to every last version. I realize it may border on a problem with Regis being a vampire but the only beast in this story is responsibility. Besides, when your favorite fairytale has more versions then there are saints you may as well use them.


	4. My wayward path declineth soon, but she shines not the less.

The new moon lent no light, but the stars shone bright enough as he followed the now memorized steps to the garden. Regis was still exhausted, feelings raw. After three nights since his and Geralt's return from Tesham Mutna he could not convince himself to stay away any longer. He needed to hear her voice. When he tripped over the corner of a flower bed, Amelia's face snapped towards him. Happiness bloomed on her cheeks quickly followed by worry when he thumped down beside her.

"You should be resting." Her voice was full of quiet admonishment. 

"I have rested enough." 

She shook her head with an exasperated sigh before getting to her feet. "Come on." She offered him her hands and when he didn't take them or get up her brows arched. "If you are exhausted to the point you are tripping over flower beds, you can at least pacify me by sitting in one of the ridiculous chairs in my music room."

A huff of laughter left him, but he took her hands when she sternly shook them again and let her pull him to his feet. "What makes these chairs ridiculous?"

"Well." She led him confidently through the grounds. "I have no idea what color they are, but I do know it takes me and Eleanor putting our backs out to move one and that they are comfortable enough to sleep in. And." She added with a grin. "I would absolutely trade my brother for a third one." 

"A knight is only worth one chair?" He laughed. "Surely not, I would think at least two." 

She half turned back to him, hand on the half gate leading into a small garden at the side of a villa. "You are giving Albert far too much credit. He can barely woo his soon to be wife most days without quaking in his boots for fear of not being good enough." She led him across the little stone path to the turquoise door. "She has had their wedding planned since we were children." She said with a delicate snort.

"If she's half the woman you are, he is wise to do so."

She faltered a moment, blinking several times. "I." She shook her head, a shy smile appearing with her flushed cheeks. "I thank you for the compliment, my dear Regis." She stepped quietly through the door, placing a finger against her smiling lips before leading him through the kitchen and through the dining room before passing through a dark wood door.

Calling it a music room was a disservice. Curtains were pulled back from the large window, framing the night with evergreen velvet. Instrument cases were nestled gently on shelves, while others held book after book. A wide table was scattered with notes, a sturdy hard backed chair on one side and two overstuffed armchairs on the other. They were upholstered in a rosy red, and when he settled into it, he saw the rose designs barely etched into the fabric. In fact, roses covered the room. Every carving, every vase full, even the wallpaper featured curling rose vines. 

"You are right, these chairs are delightful." Her soft laugh drifted across the room as she poured them water. "I do believe I can guess your favorite flower." 

A merry smile danced on her face as she handed him his glass. "Oh? Am I so obvious?" She settled into the other chair, relaxing into its arms with a slouch he didn't think she had been capable of. "There is very few of my things that do not have roses somewhere." She leaned forward and pulled the chain from around her neck. "It all started with this one."

He took it from her gently. Her name curled within the heart made of rose vines, chips of red and green stones adorning the petals and leaves. "It's lovely. From your mother I presume."

"Yes." She smiled as she took it back, latching it about her neck once more. "She had one too, and my grandmother, and two great grandmothers beyond her." She shrugged. "I don't know why but we all ended up with Rose in our name somewhere and a necklace. I never got the chance to ask."

"Lady Amelia Rose Moonblind." He chuckled when she scowled.

"Perhaps it's because we are pretty but prickly when annoyed." She said, nose turning up before breaking into a grin. "I could have ended up with a mouthful like some of the others. Mine is good and simple." She reached out, felt along the edge of the table before her fingers found the case she had left there. She opened it gently and pulled out a beautifully made lute.

"It's elven make."

"Mhmm, family heirloom somehow. I probably do not want to know that tale." Her brow furrowed in concentration as she tuned it. "I meant to do this earlier after Toby and Evie's lesson and my hands are beside themselves. So." She gave him a bright smile. "If you don’t mind listening."

"I would be delighted to hear you play."

A small laugh left her, but she settled into a quiet song, fingers moving nimbly along the strings as she turned it. He listened for a long time, eyes falling closed as it washed over him. "Were you able to help your friend?"

"I don't know yet. I hope." He shook his head. "Detlaff has to want my help."

"A stubborn one then." He made a soft noise of affirmation. She wove her way back into a song, shifting between them with the ease of years. 

Regis's brows furrowed when she started to play Master Mirror softly humming along. "Have you met him?"

The lute twanged terribly as she stared at him in horror. "It's a story to scare children."

"Do you believe that?" He asked quietly, steepling his fingers as he considered her thoughtfully.

She let out a sigh. "No, not really." She continued quietly, fingers gently plucking out the rest of the song. "Every tale has a hint of truth, somewhere. And this song." She let the last notes drift away before settling into a wordless melody. "Is very specific about why you should not trust Master Mirror." She scowled. "He sounds like a devil." The music lilted softly between them for a time. "Have you met him?"

"No." He said with a shake of his head. "Geralt has and told me of him, the song fits rather well."

"That's possibly more horrifying then the song itself." Her head tilted to the side, listening thoughtfully to the night. "Perhaps we should move on to a different tale, speak of a devil and they will appear." A clank followed by a crash sounded in the hall and she grinned before letting out a soft laugh. "Or will summon a knight, a drunk one it sounds."

The door thudded open and Regis froze. Amelia stayed relaxed fingers gently playing again as she stared at the red headed and red-faced lad leaning on the doorframe. "Ssokay, Lia?"

"I’m fine, Albert." She laughed. "I found myself unable to sleep is all. Did you have a good evening?"

"Sssuppose sos." He gave her a wide grin. "I’m to bed. Lily says hellos." He clanked away, Amelia snickering when he loudly fell over the first step. "Stop movin, step."

She shook her head, still smiling when he finally cleared the stairs. "Well, now you know why he's only worth one chair."

He chuckled at that. "He didn't seem too bad."

"Your opinion would be very different if he had realized you were there." She shrugged with a grimace. "He is too protective by any standard. Heroically rescues me at all times from spilled tea and noble ladies equally." Mischief shone on her face. "No doubt he'd name you a suitor and demand a duel to test your mettle." 

"Does that happen often?" He had to struggle to keep his voice level, there were worse accusations, far worse. He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest.

"Ha." She shook her head. "There are no suitors for Lady Moonblind, the meager dowry not worth the trouble." Her eyes crinkled with a grin. "Which is why I had my father set it so low and enlisted Albert's help to convince him." She cleared her throat and pitched her voice in a near perfect mimic. "Father, Amelia will always have me to watch over her and provide for her happiness. Why subject ourselves to some fool and he to her temper?"

"I find you having a temper hard to believe." He let out a breath of relief, welcoming the chance to change the subject to send his mind elsewhere, away from the beating of his heart.

Her grin took a sharp edge, the joy settling behind a mask of rage. He understood a bit why she had laughed when she told him about how some called her Lady Nightwraith when they thought she couldn't hear. She softened almost immediately. "Leash a temper and when you finally explode people are far more willing to take you seriously. Besides." She added primly. "Don't you know ladies never get angry? It's unbecoming." She took up another of Dandelion's ballads, one that sang of broken hearts and longing. Her expression turned thoughtful, a little mournful. "What of you, Regis? Any suitors hanging on your doorstep?"

"Not many doorsteps to be found in a graveyard." She gave him a drawl look. He gave a slight shake of his head before continually slowly. "I have not had anyone that was more than a friend for a long time." She nodded at that, the thoughtful expression returning.

Amelia gave herself a shake before tossing him a smile. "Enough of that. Would you be willing to indulge my curiosity?"

"Certainly, what do you wish to know?"

"Are there others like you? I mean, of course." She huffed annoyed at her lack of clarity. "I know there are other vampires, the Conjunction and all that."

"Those that exist alongside humans?" She nodded as she slid the lute on to the desk. "There are several who do. My tribe, the Gharasham, settled in this area."

"Is there more than one tribe then?" She pulled her legs up to sit cross legged in the chair with a twitch of her skirts, attention rapt. 

"Three tribes came here during the Conjunction of the Spheres, Gharasham, Tdet, and Ammurun. The Ammurun traveled west beyond the Great Sea. The Tdet went east beyond the Blue Mountains." 

Her brows arched at that. "So far? That's incredible." Her face took a wistful turn. "The things they must see and hear." She shook her head. "So, does that mean you and Detlaff are related?"

"Of a sort." He leaned forward and tapped his fingers together a moment. "We share a bond, he did me a great service. I aim to repay him if I can." He was quiet for a long moment, Amelia swirling the water in her glass. "There is perhaps one other that knows him as well as I, but she cannot be found."

"A lover." Regis made a quiet noise with his nod. "A pity then that she cannot be found. It is harder to be stubborn when it's two people who care about you asking the same thing. And." She gave him a cheeky grin. "It makes for a better story." She missed the table entirely, the glass shattering on the floor. She let out a displeased groan. "Not again." 

"Does that happen often?" 

She shooed him away when he tried to help. "Yes. It's why I keep telling them to stop giving me fancy glasses, the earthenware is fine. But you're a lady! They cry. Ugh... they at least agreed to glass that breaks in large pieces." She fished for the final piece under the table, drawing back her hand with a protest. "Damn it all." Blood dropped on to the glass even as she set it on the table. 

A roaring filled his ears, muffled his hearing, everything growing sharp, teeth and nails growing longer, cutting into the arms of the chair The world slowed as she hissed, her finger going to her mouth, as he imagined doing the same thing, how she’d-.

"Regis?" Amelia pinched the cut on her hand as she looked up, his aura a swirling abyss of black and red that obliterated the shadow she usually saw as she felt the rumble in the air. She slowly rose to her feet, focusing to keep her breathing steady. "Dear heart? What's wrong?" When he didn’t answer, she wasn’t sure he could answer, she very gently reached out for the lute. She settled back into the chair, fingers dancing quietly along the strings. She could feel his gaze on her hands, like a fire that left the rest of her cold. Music calmed her own soul when she was upset, and it was all she could offer. 

Years of practice is what brought the notes forward, her mind having forgotten every song she knew. The spiraling lessened, the form shifting slowly back into a Regis shaped shadow. She smiled softly when she realized the tune she had picked up and took up the lyrics. "Just a little change, small to say the least. Both a little scared, neither one prepared..." Relief made her breathy when the darkness disappeared, the air quietening. "Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme..." 

With the final words he shook his head, the last of it falling from him. The quiet thrum of magic lay in the air, a gauzy warmth. Her hand was bleeding again, blood dripping on to the lute and he stood on unsteady feet before taking it from her and dropping to his knee to inspect her hand. "It'll heal clean." He murmured, wrapping a handkerchief around it with a slight amount of pressure. He looked up, her face unreadable, but he felt as if she was searching his. "I apologize for my behavior. It was foolish of me to come so soon after."

"Shh." She wove her fingers around his that still held her injured hand. "No harm done, Regis."

"It could have been." 

The undercurrent of fear in his voice brought her forward, and she brushed the gentlest of kisses against his cheek. "I had nothing to fear." She watched him quietly, a million things flitting through his mind, a small smile hiding at the corner of her mouth. He eventually sighed, forehead falling to rest on their hands. She let the quiet rule for a time before gingerly asking. "What happened at Tesham Mutna, Regis?"

"You do not want to know." 

"I would not have asked if I didn't." She huffed, she carefully extracted her one hand and began to gently run her fingers through his hair. "Sometimes our fears, our troubles are greater because we think we must face them alone." She said softly. "Such things only have the power we give them."

Regis was quiet for a long time, content to rest his head in her lap while she played with his hair, her voice occasionally escaping her quiet hum with barely heard words. He let out a deep sigh. "We needed the blood of a higher vampire for Resonance to work. It needed a specific chemical composition, only possible while being in a certain state."

"And happiness is never the one they want." She said wryly.

"No."

"I take reaching the certain state was unpleasant."

"Yes. It requires suffering, a frenzy."

"It caused you great pain." She barely felt his nod. It was not often she wished for her sight, not anymore. But she did now, her heart ached at the melancholy and pain in his voice. She wanted to see he was physically unharmed, even if emotionally he was beaten. "I'm glad Geralt was with you." She said quietly. "For his facade of grumpy uncaring, that man carries more cares than most rulers. The kind of man that not only keeps his friends safe, but strangers too."

"He would be grumpy indeed to know he could be read so easily." She laughed softly as he straightened. "Thank you, Amelia." 

She reached out gently, fingers soft against his cheek and smiling a little when he leaned into her touch. "I may not see, but I am always here to listen."

Regis leaned towards her, the last shreds of his reason weakly protesting. _ She was only human _ . Her lips were warm, she froze only a moment before she was kissing him back, gentleness even then. They broke apart, foreheads leaned together, a soft smile echoed in each other's faces. "Amelia-."

She cut him off. "If you are apologizing for being forward, Lebodia help me, I will consider smacking you with the lute."

"Only consider?"

"Only consider." Her eyes fluttered shut a moment, cheeks pinking. "Only because it was even better than I hoped." She broke into a grin. "And I’d like several more-." 

He silenced her words with another kiss, smiling when she laughed and ignoring the voice at the back of his mind.

_ She was only human. _


	5. And if she faintly glimmers here, and paled is her light,

Detlaff was dead. The lesser vampires were leaving the city but not enough, not fast enough. Regis caught up to Geralt and with a nod went off on his own.  _ Amelia. _

Music danced between the bodies, clearing the air as it went, her voice strong above the notes of her lute. A subtle shifting of a soft magic weaving through it all. Several lesser vampires stood before her garden gate, a gentle sway moving their bodies. 

"See me now, a ray of light in the moondance

See me now, I cannot leave this place

Hear me now, a strain of song in the forest

Don't ask me to follow where you lead."

Amelia was pale, her back straight as she sat on the garden bench. Albert stood behind her, sword in hand, his other wrapped around the hand of a dark-haired woman, several children and servants behind them. "He's here." When Albert spoke the closest Ekimma's face snapped towards him, fangs and claws unfurling. The woman smacked at him, her eyes not leaving Amelia who took a deep breath and sang all the louder.

"The maiden wept when she heard him when he said he'd set her free

He took his axe and used it to bring down her ancient tree

"Now your willow's fallen, now you belong to me"

Regis went quietly to each one, his gift not as strong as others, as Detlaff's his heart aching. But they left all the same, shaking the music from their minds, the calm staying as they retreated from the city.

"She faded into a flower

That would bloom for one bright eve

He could not take from the forest

What was never meant to leave"

She held the last few notes, fingers repeating the melody as more flew overhead or ran past. "Are you alright?" She nodded, giving him a wobbly smile, cheeks ashy. 

A blade tip snapped level with his neck. "You're one of them." Albert stepped the rest of the way out from behind Amelia, shaking his hand from the woman’s. Fear and rage clouded features so like his sister’s. 

"I am." Regis held his hands up in a placating gesture. He understood, the few times he had met Albert he had not offered forth the information. It mattered even less now. Amelia was safe.  _ She was only human. _

"You-."

" _ Albert _ ." Her voice was sharp, the strings making an ugly twang. "Lebodia help you, brother dear, if you don’t drop that sword right this instant, I will make you wish they had eaten you."

The young man blinked several times, the fight leaving him as he looked from her to Regis and back, but he sheathed his sword. "That's not nice, Amelia." 

Amelia snorted her fingers finding the notes again, but the other woman spoke. "You're acting a fool,  _ Sir Albert _ ." He flinched, cheeks reddening. "He just saved us; you remember your manners." She turned to Regis and stuck out her hand. "Lily, I will take a guess that you are Regis." He nodded and took her hand, she had a strong grip, calluses on her hands. Her eyes sparkled merrily. "Amelia described you well."

Albert was standing open mouthed, eyes searching them so quickly his neck popped. "What? Why?"

Lily patted his arm with a look of fond exasperation. "Come along, dear heart. We need to settle these folks for the night." She picked up the youngest child. "Some cocoa, I think."

"With marshmallows?" The little boy perked up immediately, a delighted gleam in his eyes.

"Only if Lady Amelia didn't eat them all."

"Just Amelia, you insufferable woman." She called back over her shoulder, her smile turning into a grin when they all laughed. When the door closed behind them, her shoulders slumped. "My fingers haven’t ached this much since I was a child." 

Regis took a deep breath as he looked around them, listening hard. "I think they are all gone." 

She nodded, uncurling her fingers as she set the lute down beside her. She gently stretched them and set to rubbing feeling back into them. Regis took her hand in his, smiling at the noise she made when the muscles uncramped, both a relief and pain. "How long did you play?"

"Hm." She was quiet for a moment. "I was giving Tobias and Evelyn their lessons, here in the garden. Dusk?" She offered. "I was... lost in thought until Toby pulled on my hair, scared to death of a monster staring from the garden gate. Evie went to get Albert and her sister, when I stopped playing it came forward, so I just started again." She shook her head with a smile. "Now this I must set to music, a blind woman with a lute holding back a monster. It sounds ridiculous." 

He settled heavily beside her, head in his hands before he spoke softly. "Detlaff caused this." She said nothing but wrapped an arm around him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "He's dead now."

"But you said… oh." She wrapped her other arm around him and hugged him tight. "Oh Regis, I am sorry." He nodded, letting the smell of her wash over him, roses and chocolate and the sweetness that was her alone. He let the calmness soothe him, the quiet hum she took up as her fingers smoothed through his hair. 

He pulled away, regret aching in his heart. "I had to know you were well, but there's more in the city and Geralt is only one." She nodded; hand wrapped in his until they got to the gate. 

When he let her go, she reached up gently, fingers soft on his cheek. "Be safe, dear heart. And don't worry about me."

"You have your brave knight."

She smiled a little at that. "I have my music apparently." She continued softly. "And I have you. Come back to me safe, Regis." The barest of nods, of kisses and he was gone like smoke.

_ She was only human. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Willow Maid by Erutan


	6. Yet always in her proper sphere she's mistress of the night.

"It was a lovely ceremony. Geralt even managed to not look ill about being dressed up." Amelia was still in her court dress, slipping away from the ball Anarietta had thrown to celebrate Toussaint’s hero. Amelia had to work ridiculously hard at keeping her face serene and her voice light, after all it was not Geralt’s heroics alone. It was not Geralt who lost the most. The witcher had laid a comforting hand on her shoulder when Anarietta called her in to discuss the music, and Amelia had brought up Regis. The Duchess had made up her mind. "An idiot duchess." She half muttered to herself before shaking her head. "Sylvia Anna got more of a welcome then she was due. I still think people should know."

"Perhaps it's best to let it lie. She's been through enough."

"Hm. And caused a fair share of it for others." Regis patted her hand and she let out an exasperated huff before stepping away from him with a grin. "If you ever wish to give the Duchess or her sister the upbraiding they deserve, the temper of Lady Moonblind is at your service."

Amelia hadn’t commented on how quiet he was, how he seemed to listen with every turn to things she could not hear or sense. She left it alone until they neared the fountain in the rose garden. Her hands rumpled the soft pink skirt of her dress. "Regis." She was silent a moment, searching the grey shadow shape of him, its usual shine dim. "Is there anything I can do? I know this is difficult, but if I can help, anything at all."

“I broke a law of my kind.” He sighed deeply. “To kill another higher vampire is a grave misdeed.”

“Oh.” She chewed her lip. “And I take the punishment is equal to the crime.” 

“Yes.” He turned from her for a moment, searching for the best words, for how he felt, why he had to leave. How he wanted her to be happy and find the fairytale she had given up on.  _ She was only human. _ None of it came out. "I will be leaving."

Her face fell, chin lowering to her chest, her fingers clasped tightly together. Regis went to continue but she shook her head and lifted her chin, a soft smile on her face. Her eyes met his as she reached out to lay her fingers against his chest. The only emotion her moon bright eyes held was light, no swirling depths or sparks, no hints. But it was a soft light, that made him feel content, that he was seen without judgement. "We have always known this day would come, one way or another, my dear Regis." He nodded as she continued, worrying her lip a moment. "I will cherish our time and your friendship." Her voice finally caught on the last word. A tear slid down her cheek glistening in the moonlight as her lip trembled. 

Amelia stood on tiptoe, her palms steadying her against his chest and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek. "Farewell, dear heart." His last glimpse of her was when she turned back towards him as she exited the garden. A swirl of soft pinks among the blood dark roses, her blonde hair blowing in the slight breeze to tangle among the leaves. His last sight of her was her smiling.

A century had passed since Regis had last walked in the land of fairytales and wine. It was simply a stop on a longer journey, he wasn't ready to linger there, knowing there was nothing to keep him there now. He debated stopping at the rose garden, to see if it had survived without the guidance of its fair mistress. Instead he made his way to his favored haunt that lay in her cemetery. He swung open the rusty gate, his feet leading him to her favorite place to sit. The old gravestone had lost most of the words it once held, the smooth rock long cold from the warmth of her laugh. Regis left it without a second glance, making his way to the crypt he knew was comfortable enough. New gravestones dotted the landscape, but one caught his eye. Golden roses twined up the sides. Across the top the phases of the moon glowed in the light, the barest outlines of eyes on the full moon’s face. Its inscription was in a neat, flowing script.

_ Bury me by the stream _

_ Where once my love I'd meet. _

_ Bury me beneath the moon _

_ For it was then we'd speak. _

_ Bury me with roses, _

_ For desire has golden thorns. _

_ Bury me with these words, _

_ For all the ones we left unsaid. _

_ Weep not for me, dear heart, _

_ Only your Amelia. _


	7. Epilogue

"Rather dramatic isn't it?" Regis froze. That voice. “I am not a terrible wraith seeking her vengeance, Regis.” it was her laugh, it sang on the wind like it always had, everything about her was music. He jumped at the touch on his shoulder. "See? Just as solid as you."

"Amelia." She was there, warm and alive and she was there.

She grinned and bright silver eyes twinkled back at him. "I imagine you have questions." He nodded, at a loss for words for once in his long life. "Remember when I told you about my lute?" She tapped the case slung over her shoulder. "Well the story is it was my great grandmother's. It came with her when she married."

"She was elven." The lute may have had its own magic, but the hum of it he had always felt must have been purely her own. It made far more sense now.

Amelia nodded. "And near everyone that married in was half elven." She spread her arms wide with a twirl. "I am the fluke, but this fluke meant when I met my grandmother, she knew a mage that knew a spell, and I finally got to the end of my fairytale." Her bright smile faded as concern wrinkled her face, as she took his hands in her own. "Regis?"

He shook his head, his thoughts and heart not keeping pace. "Why?" He waved his hand at the tombstone.

She pulled his hands gently and set them meandering through the graves. She was quiet for a long time, hands chafing her arms. "Anarietta noticed it first, that I wasn't aging. She found a quiet scholar to dig into the family history." She sighed. "After a certain point, the claims of Iuck and spells were no longer believable. So, I disappeared to the country estate, and Albert." She affectionately patted his tombstone. "Told everyone I was simply too heartbroken to be in society. "She is all melancholy and gloom." A few years later when the excuse no longer held, he put out that I died. He was old then, still determined to protect me and make sure I was happy.” She shook her head and her fond smile changed into an exasperated one. “His grandchildren check in on me at times. I don’t think they know quite what to think about the ageless woman living in the small cottage at the furthest point of the estate. An elven witch with her magic lute. They were more fun as children; they loved the song I wrote to tell it." A soft chuckle left him at that. Her fingers traced gently along the top of her mother's grave, not quite looking at him. "And what of you, Regis? Have the long years been as kind?"

"Yes, for the most part. I traveled." He shook his head. "I will admit I no longer believe it to be real, seeing you again." 

She had settled against the tombstone before him, a warm smile on her face as she spoke softly. "It's the first time I have seen you, I think I understand how you feel." 

"Oh. I had not considered-." 

"Fret not." Her eyes danced merrily. "You are as handsome as I imagined." She laughed softly at his slack jawed look. "Regis, I have waited a hundred years wondering if you would ever come back. Are you going to kiss me properly or not?"

He laughed then and pulled her into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, Moonblind ended at the end of chapter six. I found myself unable to kill off who had become one of my favorite characters to write. Maybe one day there will be more of Amelia's story, but, for now, I am content.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Titles: The Moon by Henry David Thoreau


End file.
